Eric told you about the Tablelands, here is about our call
in Bonne Bay.
As very clear on a map, the
way up the West coast is a long stretch, with quite a linear shore; it is
notorious for weather, not only wind-wise but also sea-state wise. So, we have
to spot the few places where we can / have to stop after leaving the SouthWest
coast. Bonne Bay was attractive shelter-wise, and also because in case of being
locked in by weather, we can try to get
some hikes in the Gros Morne park.
The first half of the passage, after leaving PortauxBasques,
is pretty uneventful. We pass CapeRay in the fog, but it lifts and we had a
nice afternoon downwind sailing, enjoying the sights of the coast (which is
still a novelty for us, after so many days of NOT seeing the East or South
coasts !).
The end of the night gets more sporty, dead downwind in 25+
kts, with steep seas. Sélune is not easy to drive in those conditions. At daybreak we gybe to make the entrance to
BonneBay, on a backdrop of high and dark cliffs – not unlike, say, the cliffs
of Mohair, or SCotrland West coast. It takes forever to get in the lee (the shelter
) of the coasts, but finally and gradually we get out of the rough part. There
are still stronger gusts dropping from the cliffs, 30kts plus. We spot
something of a strange color, orange-y in the water – an upturned boat ? No, it is a dead whale. It gets my paranoia engine
going: I always fear of hitting a whale – the conequences would be real, it
would be like hitting a rock, not a –
but I reason that they spend lots of time underwater, and then they do take
some action to avoid us when at surface,
so overall a small risk- but to this
risk I have now add DEAD whales – just floating there in the surface to ….
months ? years ? ). Brrr.
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| No, if the boat hit this carcass, it won't be like hitting butter. More like 50 tons of rock and bones. |
Back to entering BonneBay. We sail deeper in the fjord to a
nice natural basin called Neddy harbour. We anchor and it looks like good
holding, but the wind still a bit too strong to relax completely; the kind of wind when you hesitate to leave
the boat on its own at anchor. As I step on the deck to prepare the dinghy, a
guy waves to from the shore, indicating that we can tie up to the (private, and
only) dock – a very nice dock, with a very nice yachtclub-like building in the
background. That’s an offer we wont pass, and promptly, we are greeted by
Irv. It is a really ideal place for us,
and in addition Irv and his wife Melanie will be embarrassingly generous hosts
for us (we are offered fresh cod, and blueberry muffins for breakfast !).
Water is super-clear and quite warm, 17 degrees. I have a quick dive to check my underwater paint, all good. All those hours I spent in the yard (and Paul's) are well behind now, but the effort paid, we have very few technical issues.
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| Irv's and Melanie idyllic dock in BonneBay. |
Bonne Bay is a tourist hub, and the vibe is a quite
different from what we have seen so far –
cottages for rent, boat tours, a few restaurants tuned to the urban
tastes with ponytailed baristas. All quite tidy, it reminds me of Norway (but
that’ very localized: next village, RockyHarbour, is properly Newfie). Offshore,
the sea is covered in whitecaps, and we enjoy the day ashore. But the wind is
due to abate, which opens a window for us to move up North. We have a nice
dinner with the crew of Q-If, a boat that I had admired a few times when I was
visiting Caen (small world). Last goodbye and thanks to Irv & Melanie &
Valerie and we cast off by dusk.
Travelling at nigh
During this trip, we do often start our passage in the evening. It might seem strange: for sure, when the day is over, the inclination is rather to relax with a good glass of wine and a hot dinner. But leaving at the end of the day enables us to do 100 + miles legs, while still arriving in daylight at the next harbor. It is very productive in terms of mileage, and as we take watches, we are still operational the next day.
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